


Time Has Brought Your Heart to Me

by sam1abc



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe where Eve runs away with Villanelle, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Portfolio, Post-Season/Series 01 Finale, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-16 03:01:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14803109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sam1abc/pseuds/sam1abc
Summary: As Eve chases down a killer, Villanelle begins to close the distance between them.Post-Finale Au where Eve and Villanelle have nothing left to discover but each other.





	1. Chapter 1

Villanelle pulled her coat tighter around her body and groaned. It’s been hours since Eve left for a “newspaper”, and she’s getting bored. Bored. She’s entertaining the idea of getting off the couch and hunting her down when Eve stumbles back into their hotel room, bleeding from her left arm. 

When Eve starts toward the kitchen, Villanelle pushes her toward the couch and drapes her coat around her shoulders. She snags the first aid kit from the counter, but when she’s turned around Eve has her head buried in her hands. Damn it. She’s no good at this nurse thing. 

“Do you...think you need to go to the hospital?”

Eve peeks at her through the gap in fingers and shakes her head, so Villanelle dabs the antiseptic wipes in her scrape. 

“Fuck! Oksana, I’m fine! Really, just..a fall.”

Probably bullshit, but Eve doesn’t seem like she’d appreciate being called out right now, so Villanelle smiles and bandages her arm. If Eve doesn’t want to tell her, she can wait. That, or ask around later. She loves a good mystery. 

————-

Eve’s napping on the couch when Villanelle shrugs on her least favorite coat. It’s a suspiciously pleasant London day, and Villanelle’s going to make the most of it. She’s also really, really hungry, and Eve might not appreciate being woken up for breakfast. She’s shuffling through the menu of a French cafe idly when she spots Carolyn Martens. Carolyn seems to be occupied on a tablet, though. Eve’s...ex-boss? It’s a little unusual to see her this far from England. Villanelle isn’t interested in a fight until she’s had her coffee though. She pulls her newspaper closer towards her and waves the waiter over. 

“Two butter croissants and a large coffee to go, please. For Sarah.”

When he hands the sack to her, their fingers brush and he flushes. His name is David, according to his name tag. He’s young, red headed, and not bad looking. It’s a shame she doesn’t have time for him. 

She tucks her newspaper in her purse and tucks the delivery menu in her purse. For later. 

————-

Eve’s is flipping through the television with a notebook open in her lap when Villanelle nudges the door of her bedroom open. Oh, good. She’s up. 

“Good morning, baby. You want a croissant?” 

Eve doesn’t respond, but she perks up at the word “croissant”. Haha. Villanelle slides down the couch towards her, and waves the sack at her cheerfully. 

“I hope one of those is for me, Oksana.” 

“Of course they are! Eve, do I look evil?” 

Eve stuffs the croissant in her mouth and ignores Villanelle’s (fantastic) pouting cheerfully. Damn it, she’d practiced that one too. The twitchy little anchor on Channel Four is going on and on about some “serial murder”, and Eve seems completely riveted. 

“You want me to leave the newspaper here? I got it just for you, you know.” 

“Oh! Uh, yeah thanks. I was just, you know.”

Eve waves her hand distractedly. 

“What are you looking for?”

“There’s a serial killer who’s obviously targeting tourists, and nobody in the police stations figured out it's the same guy doing it, because they can’t look past the fact that his weapons have different DNA on them.”

Villanelle nods slowly. 

“And this is all tied to the fantastic tumble you had last night because..?”

“Because some jackass cop told me to mind my own business, and I told him to go fuck himself…?”

Villanelle laughs and gestures to the notebook curiously.

“Huh? Oh, go ahead and look through them. There’s barely anything in it though.”

Newspaper clippings are pasted into the first few pages, but post it notes of Eve’s speculations cover most of them. The pages Eve’s been working on are speculations on the killers motivations and what seems like descriptions of the killers crimes. 

The first victim is a 23 year old American man. He’s a businessman, reportedly visiting Cuba for a conference. The killer seems to have followed him into the back alley behind a McDonalds and slit his throat from behind. There was no signs of a struggle, and the police found his body in a dumpster roughly 26 yards from where he was killed. The customers had reported a foul smells. 

The second victim is a 65 year old Polish woman. She’d reportedly visited Cuba for the warm, sunny beaches. She’d eaten a poisoned omelette about a hour before her death, and she was discovered by her son after he didn’t receive any response to his knocks. 

The third victim is a 22 year old Jamaican woman, who’d been studying abroad on a scholarship. Every victim has a past of financial instability, and a reputation for being “short tempered.” Every corpse was discovered within a 15 mile radius from the first one, and the victim’s belongings were virtually untouched. 

——————

Eve looks exhausted when Villanelle breezes past her the next morning, so Villanelle doesn’t feel like two extra large coffees is overkill. David clearly disagrees. His face looks pinched and worried. 

“Don’t worry. One of these are for my fiancée.”

“Wow! Uh, congratulations!”

The bold faced lie makes her face heat. Luckily, David doesn’t understand the reason for her flush. 

“Thank you. She loves the coffee here, you know? I don’t know where else I’d be able to go for her caffeine addiction.”

He blinks slowly, but he doesn’t seem too surprised, which is good. Villanelle takes the coffee from his lax hands and slips him a twenty for his trouble. It’s probably for the best that they move soon. She’s made too many “friends” here. 

——————

It’s all worth it later, though, for the grateful smile Eve gives her when Villanelle hands the takeout container to her. 

“I’m going to need to go there with you, someday, this coffee is fantastic.” 

“Staying up all night over serial killers isn’t healthy, you know.”

“What, Jealous? Come on, Oksana, you know you’re my favorite murderer.”

Villanelle laughs, but she’s glad Eve doesn’t seem to notice the way her eyes linger on the way Eve’s hair falls around her face when she takes lets it down. Damn, she’s got it bad. 

——————

The notes Eve leave’s in the margins of her notebook note that while this serial killer seems to kill impulsively, they seem to be killing more and more. Eve hypothesizes that they’re becoming more and more reckless, but the sample size is so small that finding patterns the killer might be following is “basically fucking impossible”. 

When the phone on the kitchen counter beeps, Eve leaps off her chair and shuffles around her bag for her notes until Villanelle hands her notebook to her. 

“There’s-there’s been a murder that fits the pattern in our area. If I hurry, I might be able to get to it before the cops seal it off. I need you to call me if you find anything.” 

Eve grabs the take out tray and dashes out the door with Villanelle’s coffee. It’s unlikely Eve notices, but Villanelle groans and slides down the couch slowly. She’s really going to need to do something about that killer. If nothing else, because she absolutely hates sharing. 

——————

The lid pops off easily enough, and Eve sips the top off carefully anyway, to make sure it doesn’t spill. Completely focused on her phone, Eve stumbles on a loose brick. The knees of her pants are ruined, but Eve is really devastated when she drops her coffee. The dark, growing puddle spreading tragically over the cobblestones feels like a metaphor for her life.

“Damn it!”

She whips her head around at the sound of laughter, but when she turns around the only person there seems to be a stern faced businessman who offers her a napkin.

“Looks like you took quite a spill there, darling. Need any help?”

Eve hesitates, but it’d be rather rude to refuse. He smiles warmly at her when she takes her hand. 

——————

Villanelle stretches languidly on the couch, flipping through the channels halfheartedly. It’s the usual hotel room channels. Judge Judy, some Cartoon Network knockoff, and local news. No mention of any murder, related to Eve’s case or not. 

It’s a welcome surprise when Eve’s phone rings.

“Eve! You can’t run off like that on me again.”

The phone is silent, but when Villanelle presses the speaker against her ear, she hears low breathing. It doesn’t seem like the sort of prank Eve would pull, so Villanelle hangs up. God damn it.

She might need to visit that crime scene herself. 

——————

The room Eve wakes to is miserable and dark, but the lack of light poking it’s way through the windows suggest late night. Best case scenario, she’s been here trapped here for a little under seven hours and Villanelle is about to burst through the walls of this warehouse with a box of hot, Chinese takeout. Worst case scenario, she’s been trapped here for decades and Niko was right when he said he’d regret running off with a woman who thought murdering their mutual acquaintances was incredibly romantic. Her reasonable speculation is cut short by the sound of a throat clearing politely. 

“Hello, Eve. Been a while.”

——————

5 hours earlier

Villanelle follows Eve’s phone to an overflowing dumpster, buried beneath two fresh corpses and a pile of newspapers. Doesn’t really seem like an Eve thing to do. Dead end.

The “older” of the corpses is a tall, sickly woman. If Villanelle had to guess, this would be the crime scene Eve was headed to before disappearing. A stocky middle aged businessman has been tossed on carelessly. The smell is tolerable, so they must have been moved recently. Cuban heat is notoriously unforgiving, corpse or not. 

The real question is whether or not this distasteful display was meant for her. After taking a quick lap around the back alley for (other) trespassers, Villanelle props the lid of the dumpster against the wall and shoves the mismatched couple out of the way with her shoe. Time to get digging.

——————

Present

It’s no use pretending to be asleep, so Eve rolls her eyes and stands up. Tries to, at least. Probably would have succeeded if her legs weren’t asleep. Fuck.

“Hello, Carolyn. Enjoying the weather here?”

Carolyn shakes her head vaguely and sighs. 

“I hoped Niko was wrong about you, Eve. ”

Oh, fantastic.

“So you sent me the locations of the murders, and you’ve been watching us for the past three weeks.”

“Past 10 weeks.”

“Right. So you watched a serial killer murder 4 different people and you...didn’t do anything?”

“Necessary sacrifice. Sacrifices. Eve, you were one of the best agents we’ve ever had, and other countries know this. If you went rogue, you’d be a security risk. We can’t have that.”

“We? You mean The Twelve?”

She’s clearly taken aback, but Carolyn recovers quickly. 

“We had our disagreements, Eve. But The Twelve, well, we’re allies of necessity. Which leads me to my next point.”

Great. 

“Let me guess. You want me to turn in Oksana and come back to Britain.”

“No. I’m offering you a complete pardon in exchange for your assistance on future cases. We can discuss Villanelle when you’ve calmed down sufficiently.” 

——————

3 hours earlier

When the phone beeps, Villanelle briefly considers rolling up her sleeves and diving in. Lucky for her dry cleaning bill, some kid in Little League gear speeds past. 

“Hey! Kid! I’ll give you 20 dollars for that bat.”

He’s clearly ignored his mother’s warnings on stranger danger, because Carlos (the name on his bag, at least) crosses his arms and shakes his head.

“50 at least. Dad paid like, 75 dollars for this.”

“50? It’s a used bat, Carlos. I’m not paying a cent above 35.”

“Okay. Only because you seem like you really need it, though.”

Villanelle sweeps the phone out from underneath the corpses and stares at the screen. Damn it, what was Eve’s password again? 

Uh, 1-2-3-4?

No, that can’t be it. Eve would’ve changed it after telling her, right? 

The soft unlocking click feels like betrayal. There’s a string of recent texts from a blocked number, sent while Villanelle was doing laps around Cuba. The numbers seem like the location of a warehouse roughly a 19 miles from here. There’s absolutely no way Villanelle is walking all that way in the sweltering heat.

There’s a cute turquoise Volkswagen parked in the shade of a nearby superstore. The windows aren’t reinforced, so Vilanelle smashes the windows quickly and scrambles in through the window. Hot wiring the cars going to take a while, but the alarm seems to be deactivated, so she’s got a while. 

Carlos squats judgmentally in the shade of a nearby gas station.

“My mom says stealing is bad, poor lady.”

Villanelle winks at Carlos’s tiny frown of disapproval and tucks the bat in the hood. 

“Your mom’s just jealous of my hauls.”

“Bye, poor lady!” 

——————

It’s just as well that Carolyn seems utterly convinced Eve’s going to agree. She needs time to process all of this.

“Why are you contacting me now?”

“Beg pardon?”

“I mean, why are you contacting me now? You’ve clearly been watching us for a while.”

Carolyn rubs her temples irritably.

“I can’t tell you any details about an ongoing investigation in a foreign country, Eve.”

That’s the problem, huh. Carolyn’s not going to let Eve go, because Eve’s dangerous when she’s not supervised. And Eve’s not going back to Britain. Not without Villanelle. She’s never felt alive they way she’s felt alive when she’s chasing Villanelle. 

——————

1 hour earlier

When Eve’s phone rings, Villanelle hesitates. It’s the same blocked number that’s been sending her locations for the past few minutes, and she doesn’t feel like multitasking right now. Oh, fuck it. Eve’s been missing for 5 hours, and it’s pretty obvious that whatever asshole’s responsible isn’t the one sending her the solve it yourself mysteries.

“Hello? Eve?”

There’s a brief, shocked silence.

“Oh. Oh my god. I owe Elena 20 dollars.”

Wait wait wait. Villanelle knows him too. He’s one of Eve’s ex-coworkers. 

“Kenny, right? Eve’s told me all about you.”

Kenny splutters quietly before presumably remembering why he called her in the first place. 

“My mom kidnapped Eve and I’m the one who sent you where she’s keeping her. This is half because I owe Eve a massive solid after she, uh, introduced me to my girlfriend and half because I’m kind of angry my mom lied to me about her job. I am calling you right now, because I don’t really want you to kill Carolyn Marrens.”

“Did you practice that in a mirror or something?”

Kenny hangs up on her quietly. 

——————

“Just. Just to clarify. You stopped the police from releasing any information to the media because you wanted to confirm that I was in Cuba?”

“I know you, Eve. There’s no way you’d pass up an opportunity like that.”

“You were willing to let people die, if you were wrong?”

At Eve’s indignant outburst, Carolyn sighs and settles down on a nearby shipping package.

“My predictions are rarely incorrect, Eve. And I’ve seen you in action enough to see who you are. Underneath everything, you’re a woman who’s sick of being disappointed by boring people. You’ve spent your entire life chasing danger, and you’ll never fit back into the life you had before you met Villanelle. That’s why I’m offering you a job chasing people like her. For someone like you, this is the closest to a second chance I can offer.”

It’s true. Most of it, anyway. Carolyn isn’t offering her a “second chance” and she’s never going to be satisfied with some M16 job. But it’s not really about the danger, or the femme-fatales anymore. It was always, always about finding someone who understood her the way she understood them. Someone addicted to the heady, addictive thrill of the hunt, someone you never recovered from having a taste of. 

Eve can’t tell Carolyn this. She couldn’t explain it to Niko or Kenny either. Elena might understand, if Carolyn told her. Bill would have. He was perceptive, about this sort of thing. But he’s fucking dead, and Carolyn’s not the sort of woman who takes no for an answer. It’s funny, in a way. Eve used to admire that about her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Villanelle’s unmissable silhouette passes over the entrance, Eve stiffens. 
> 
> Hopefully Villanelle isn’t feeling naughty today, because evil or not, Eve doesn’t really want Carolyn to die. She doesn’t really want to get dragged back to Britain kicking and screaming either though, so hopefully Villanelle kicks Carolyn’s ass.

53 minutes earlier

This doesn’t seem like the sort of place police patrol, but Villanelle steals a corporate van anyway. She’s having a pretty crappy day, and the last thing she needs is a parking ticket. Bats, even Carlos sized ones, are a little too big to fit in her purse, so she sets it down for her grand entrance. 

Two crates is just a little too low for her liking, but three crates is uncomfortably high. Lucky for this warehouse’s insurance policy, some unfortunate employee wanders by, dragging a trolley behind them. 

At her intense stare, they flush and gesture at the office.  
“Ah, we aren’t really open right now? In fact, we’re actually being rented out right now. I’m just refiling these papers.”

“Have you seen an Asian woman with fantastic hair here? Or, oh, I don’t know, anyone British?”

“Uh, that’s confidential, and we’re actually private property. So I’m going to have to-”

“Ask me to leave? No problem.”

 

——————

The uniform fits perfectly. The real problem is hiding the body. He’s scrawny, but Villanelle is in a hurry, and this is really inconvenient. Hopefully nobody important notices this suspiciously placed packing crate for a while. 

After tossing her bat across his cart, Villanelle considers her reflection. Relatively convincing, but she pulls his cap over lower anyway. Just in case. 

The vents are much too small to crawl through, but when she presses her ear against the the cover she can hear Eve’s voice.

“...way I’m going back.”

“Eve. I’m offering you a complete pardon. ...For her cooperation and assistance, I’m prepared to offer Villanelle a pardon as well.”

“I’m not asking for forgiveness, Carolyn. And I won’t put words in her mouth, but meeting Villanelle was… I was bored with my fucking life, alright? Niko is, er, was a good husband. And Villanelle, I wouldn’t change anything about her. “

Villanelle pulls away from the vent sharply. It’s such an unfamiliar feeling, she doesn’t recognize it at first. Regret.

Oh, Eve. I wish we’d met earlier. I wish we’d found each other before we believed we were happy as we were. 

——————  
When Villanelle’s unmissable silhouette passes over the entrance, Eve stiffens. 

Hopefully Villanelle isn’t feeling naughty today, because evil or not, Eve doesn’t really want Carolyn to die. She doesn’t really want to get dragged back to Britain kicking and screaming either though, so hopefully Villanelle kicks Carolyn’s ass.

That’s the best case scenario, at least. If Carolyn notices Villanelle, everything’s fucked.

“I’ll take your deal, Carolyn. You, uh, give me the full pardon we were talking about and I turn Villanelle in.”

Oh, she’s got their full attention now. Villanelle, the little drama queen, gasps in silent mock offense and clutches her chest. Eve ignores her. 

“And I’ll have your assistance with the case, as well?”

Villanelle takes a mock swing with the baseball bat and glances in Eve’s direction. She pouts when Eve shakes her head emphatically.

“You’re not going to assist our investigation. Can’t you or won’t you?”

Damn it.

“I,I mean, yeah, whatever you need. It’s not like I don’t have free time.”

Villanelle gestures vaguely at a loaded syringe filled with god knows what. Eve’s not really sure what what that does, but it probably won’t kill Carolyn. Right?

When Eve gestures at Carolyn vaguely, Villanelle mimes falling asleep. How is this Eve’s life?

“Eve? Are you quite alright?”

Eh, been better.

“So, ah, what were you saying? About the case?”

“I was saying we’d appreciate your assistance with any further-“

Villanelle slaps Carolyn’s gun out of its holster and jams the syringe into her neck. Eve winces as Carolyn curses furiously. It's unlike Villanelle to "behave", but pacifism is probably for the best right now. 

“What? She’ll be fine.” 

At Eve’s irritated stare, Villanelle sighs and props Carolyn’s head against a chair. When it slides off slowly, Eve groans. 

“Oksana, we can’t just leave her like this.”

Villanelle raises her hands over her head placatingly.

“How about we call Kenny, and we let him take care of this?”

“How do you know Kenny?”

“How do you think I found you? Following the breadcrumb trail? Your ex-coworker here’s apparently some sort of tech genius.”

“That definitely sounds like Kenny.”

“He also sends his thanks for introducing him to his girlfriend?”

“….We might actually need to pay them a visit, then. I bet Kenny 10 dollars Elena liked him back.” 

“So you realize we can’t stay here?”

“Cuba’s been fun, but I’m afraid we might be overstaying our welcome.”

“Well, where do you want to go next?”

“You’ve lived in France. haven’t you? There has to be somewhere you’re dying to show me.”

Eve’s right. If Villanelle had forever, it wouldn’t be be enough time to show Eve everything she wanted to. But Villanelle doesn’t have any idea how she’s supposed to tell Eve that. So Villanelle does the next best thing-she tugs Eve in by the collar and kisses her carefully.

Eve melts softly and wraps her arms around Villanelle’s waist. The slow, heady rhythm they fall into deepens slowly, until Eve pulls away, gasping. 

“We can’t stay here in the middle of the road, kissing.”

Unfortunately true. Villanelle cards her hands through Eve’s hair and nods reluctantly.

“I’m sure we can pick up where we left off at the hotel.”

Eve smiles at that. Villanelle wishes she could stay here forever, her hands threaded in Eve’s hair and Eve’s hands warm on her sides. But Villanelle’s wanted this too long to stop at kissing. Eve nods.

“The hotel sounds good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cleaned up the editing and accidentally deleted your comments...  
> Sorry everyone!!!
> 
> Find me on tumblr at coralamber!

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, the Title is from A Thousand Years. Sorry?
> 
> Unbetad, so feel free to point out errors...  
> I've edited the chapters/combined them. ;)


End file.
